Fishing for Trouble
by PyrothTenka
Summary: This happens to him all the time. You'd think he'd learn to carry different pokemon with him by now.
1. Chapter 1

The gym lobby was empty as the trainer stepped in. That was odd; usually Brock had at least one of his lackeys working the front desk. No matter, the trainer decided, he was sure Brock was in here somewhere. He quickly made his way down the hall to the left and to the main training room's doors.

"Hey, Brock," he called out as he stepped inside. "You asked-" he cut off mid sentence as he took in the person in front of him. Not Brock. Definitely not. Blond, though the guy was bulky and broad shouldered like the gym leader. Except more so and probably a good half a foot taller. Which was much taller than what the intruding trainer had expected.

"Oh. Uh, you're not Brock. Haha. Let me just get out of your way then," the trainer replied, sheepishly. He turned to leave, but was stopped when he was grabbed by the collar of his shirt and pulled back.

"Wait a second, kid, where do you think you're going?" a deep voice questioned.

"Uh, to go see Brock?"

"Ha, that's funny! No one gets in to face the gym leader without beating his students first!" The trainer let out a yelp as not-Brock dragged him over to the other side of the training room. "And that means you gotta defeat _me_ first! It'll be light years before that'll happen!"

Stunned, the trainer could only blink slowly as his 'opponent' took his place at the other side of the room "Wait, I don't think you realize-"

"What? That you're some hotshot from whatever backwater village that raised you? Well, welcome to the league, kid. Here in the real world you have to fight your way to the top. If you want that boulder badge, you're going to have to get through _me_ first!"

"But, I already-"

"I said fight me!" A flash of red colored the area before the trainer's view was suddenly filled with the huge stone segmented body of an Onix. It roared down at the tiny trainer before it, making him cringe at the noise.

Sighing in resignation, he peered up at the giant snake monster thoughtfully. "Huh. Well, if it's gotta be like that then... I suppose? Er, who even do I have with me right now? Char? Wonkers? Petals? No, I don't want to kill it..."

"Hey! Quit your mumbling over there and throw out a pokemon already! Don't worry, the pokemon here have all been trained in restraint we won't kill your little pidgey or whatever it is you're hesitating to pit against my Rocky," the blond called out mockingly.

The trainer scowled at him, or tried to the best he could with three tons of stone serpent between them. "You are an incredibly rude and impatient individual. Calm down, I have to be careful about my choice or-"

"Hurry it up!"

Grinding his teeth in irritation, the trainer hesitated only a moment before selecting the last pokeball on his belt and tossing it out. "Very well, if you insist. I _was_ still in the process of training Gyra, but he's the only one I've got that will work right now."

In another flash of red light, a small... gold fish appeared. It flailed anxiously at being summoned on to dry ground, flopping aimlessly as it waited for a command.

The trainer rolled his eyes at the roaring laughter that filled the room, and wasted no time taking advantage of the other trainer's distraction. The sooner they got this over with, the sooner he could meet with Brock and be done with it.

"Gyra, tackle," the trainer called out emotionlessly.

All at once the flailing stopped and the fish grew eerily still. Then suddenly, like a bullet, the Magikarp shot across the arena and at the Onix's head with enough force to crack the snake's stone skin. Roaring in surprise, it pulled back to stare in disbelief at the fish that had returned to its side of the arena. It flopped limply against the training room floor.

Silence settled over the room as Mr. Bulky Blond gaped in astonishment.

Impatient, the trainer tugged on the brim of his hat before opening his mouth to give another command. They always did tell him he should count to three between commands when battling inexperienced trainers...

"Gyra, tac-"

"WAIT! STOP THE MATCH!" a familiar voice shouted, interrupting him.

The trainer spared a glance to the newly arrived gym leader as Brock suddenly burst into the room. He bent over, heaving deep breaths as he struggled to regain his composure. "R-Red! What are you doing?!"

The trainer glanced between his opponent and the new arrival uncertainly. "I was... coming to see you as you requested?"

"What part of 'coming to see me' involves putting my gym's pokemon in the intensive care unit of the pokecenter?!"

"The part where I was told I had to beat your students before I could see you?"

Brock stared at him blankly for a moment before speaking. "You've already got my badge. You're the Pokemon champion. People have to come defeat _me_ before getting to face you. Why in the world would you think that rule applied to you?!"

"I didn't!" Red protested with a growl, "but your _student_ over there insisted!"

Raising a hand up to massage his forehead in frustration, the gym leader answered, "And you didn't think to show him your trainer card?!"

"I would have if he'd _let_ me. He practically manhandled me over here before I could so much as say my name. I know how much you guys hate it when I cripple your gym pokemon, but he insisted! I was going easy on him..."

"I noticed. A Magikarp, Red? _Really?_ It's like you go out of your way to find the most insulting way defeat your opponent."

"Again, not my fault, Gyra was the only one I had on hand that wouldn't likely leave any lasting damage. Char has a hard time not setting everything on fire when he's just standing there let alone battling. Petals would have liquidized them in one attack. Wonkers is called Wonkers for a reason; he's too unpredictable to show any form of restraint. And don't even get me started on Shadow and Mr. Fluffy."

 _ **Mewtwo. My name is Mewtwo. Not Sir Cuddles or Mr. Fluffy.**_

"Quiet! How many times have I told you to not insert yourself into my conversations?" Red hissed back at the disembodied voice, glaring at nothing before turning back to Brock. "Anyway, this is all that guy's fault. He didn't let me say anything!"

Taking a deep breath through his nose, then counting to ten before slowly releasing it, Brock turned to face his student. "Clyde, forfeit the match and get out of here. Red and I have some business to discuss."

Blondy nodded mutely as he retrieved his onix and bolted out the door.

"Red."

"Yeah?"

"You're never allowed to duel in my gym again."


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** I bet'chu thought there wasn't gonna be anymore, eh? I will admit, this is by far the longest of any of the little plot drabbles in my head. If I post anymore, they'll probably be much _much_ shorter than this.

 **Betas:** HunnyBunny34, To Mockingbird, Monster Cat Music Girl, darkerdeepdown, Igornerd, GwendolynStacy, Duesal Bladesinger and Jerenda

* * *

 **Chapter 2:** _In which Brock is a terrible troll and Red loses a fight with a vending machine._

This trainer was beginning to get on Brock's last nerves. He had waltzed into his gym with his entourage ( _an entourage!)_ and all but demanded a match with the gym leader.

Most irritating of all, the guy had pokemon to back up his claims of greatness. Honestly Brock was just glad to give him the badge so he'd leave. Bruno would probably take that arrogance down a peg, if not Agatha, Lorelai, or Lance.

Not to mention Red, who would probably crush this guy without even trying. Brock was half convinced the pokemon champion was a freak of nature who magically turned pokemon into super powered monsters just by getting his hands on them. That Magikarp was _not_ natural.

"Don't take your loss too seriously, Gym Leader," said the trainer, Jackson, condescension dripping from his tone. "My Dragonite has defeated many, not the least of which is Red's own Charizard."

Brock's current train of thought ground to a halt and he paused in the act of dropping the Boulder Badge into the other trainer's hand. No. Nope. No way. This guy was lying. Brock had fought both Red's Charizard and this guy's Dragonite. Sure, the Dragonite had been fearsome, but it didn't even come _close_ the sheer terrifying utter destruction Char brought to the battlefield.

Brock's pause only lasted a moment before he resumed relinquishing the badge. "Really?" he asked lightly. "When did you manage that?"

"Oh, Red and I go way back," Jackson bragged without missing a beat. "We meet every few weeks for training. Trade tips and what not."

Another lie. Red didn't have many friends from before his rise to championship, and Brock was acquainted with all of them. Not to mention, Red spent most of his time at this gym. Brock had even caught him crashing on the couch in the break room. Actually, that was probably where Red was now. Huh.

"Wow, if you and Red are so close, then I have someone here in the back room that I know would just _love_ to meet you." Brock didn't usually use his strength advantage over other men, but there was no way he was going to let this opportunity slip by. He threw an arm around Jackson's shoulders in a firm grip and steered him uncompromisingly toward the break room.

"Uh, normally I would love to meet a fan, but this is really unnecessary-"

"No, I insist. I would never forgive myself if I didn't take you to meet my friend," Brock cut him off as he threw open the door and ushered them both inside. A loud bang brought them up short as they took in the scene before them.

Red was wrapped halfway around a vending machine, one arm stuck up the vending slot up to his shoulder as he tried to reach something, the other rolled into a fist and smacking the side of it.

"C'mon, you stupid hunk of junk," he growled, giving it another whack. "Give me my crackers!"

An alarm blared and a red light began flashing, startling the teen into withdrawing his arm. "Intrusion detected. Anti-theft measures activated."

"What?!"

The machine went into lockdown mode, metal screens slamming into place over the control panel and glass display. The alarm stopped and the whole device became unresponsive.

Brock was probably going to be getting an email alert in just a few minutes about that, but at that moment he was more distracted by Red snarling in fury and reaching for a pokeball at his belt.

"I'll teach you to hold my crackers hostage! Mr. Fluffy, let's show-"

Brock lunged forward to seize his arm before the pokeball could be released. " _What do you think you're doing?!_ "

Red let out a squawk of surprise, shooting the gym leader a sheepish look. "Oh, uh... Hi, Brock! I didn't see you there."

Brock's glare made Red cringe as he prepared for the inevitable lecture. It was preempted by Jackson stepping into the room with a disapproving sniff. "Who is this imbecile?"

The part of Brock that wasn't trying to save his gym from the walking weapon of mass destruction that was the current pokemon master practically giggled in glee. Oh, this was going to be fun. Even better if he played his cards right. The hard part was going to be keeping Red from giving himself away too early.

"Hey!" Red protested, frowning at the other trainer. "I'm R- OW! Ah , ah, ow! Brock, that hurts!"

The gym leader had twisted his right arm at such an angle to both cut off what he was about to say and get him to release the pokeball in his hand. He almost felt sorry at the hurt puppy dog eyes the teen sent him, but refused to as he released the arm and shot him a stern look. "What have I said about using your pokemon recklessly?"

Red rubbed his injured shoulder with a pout. "To not to?"

"Exactly. Anyway, this is Jackson. Jackson, this is the friend I wanted you to meet."

Red gave the other trainer a curious look while Jackson eyed him in outright distaste.

"A pleasure, I'm sure," came the doubtful reply.

"Uh-huh," Red spoke, shooting Brock a baffled look.

"You see," Brock went on, "Jackson here just got done telling me how good friends he was with the pokemon champion."

Red did that slow blink he did whenever something completely failed to compute in his brain. "But... I've never met him before."

Jackson snorted. "I doubt we've ever frequented the same social circles. Why was it necessary for us to meet?"

"Because," Brock persisted. "My friend here is Red's number one fan! I'm sure he'd love to hear about your experience with him as your friend."

Another slow blink. "What? Er... I guess that's true? Kinda?"

"Impossible! This simpleton couldn't possibly be Red's number one fan. I would claim that title for myself, except I'm more his _rival_ than a 'fan'."

"... Rival?" Red asked, hopelessly confused. He turned to give Brock a suspicious look. "Is this a joke? Am I being pranked right now?"

"A joke? Are you calling my rivalry with Red a joke?!"

"Uhm... maybe?"

"I'll have you know that my Dragonite has defeated Red's Charizard on more than one occasion during our training sessions!"

"Woah, wait, hold on there," Red protested, confusion forgotten. "That's not true! Char's been undefeated since he evolved into a Charizard!"

"You calling me a liar, kid?"

"You bet I am," Red growled. Brock actually took a step away from his friend. Red had a tendency to take pokemon battling far too seriously and he was not about to get in the middle of that. He was perfectly willing, however, to watch gleefully from the sidelines.

"Challenge accepted," Jackson smirked. "Three pokemon each."

Brock did a mental fist pump of victory. Red wasn't allowed by league rules to issue challenges himself, but if Jackson went ahead and misconstrued it as a challenge and then issued a challenge in response? That was legit. Gym Leader witnessed and everything.

"Sounds good to me. I only need one," Red replied before blinking and turning uncertainly to Brock. "Wait, I forgot. I'm not actually allowed to duel in Brock's gym anymore."

Nope. Brock was not being denied this. "Which is why we're going outside. And I'm sure our good friend Mr. Fluffy here will help us get to the perfect spot for the duel. With lots of space for you guys to go all out! Right, Mr. Fluffy?"

He lifted up the pokeball still in his hand, giving it a pleading look and thought loudly at it. _I'm sorry I called you that ridiculous nickname, but if I said your name it would give everything away. Please, please do this for me and I'll make you four batches of those pokepuffs you like. The ones with the hazelnuts and chocolate icing?_

Red was rolling his eyes. "Mr. Fluffy hardly ever does-"

Instantly the world tilted and they were deposited outside into what looked like the middle of nowhere. Some of them were deposited less gently than others. Jackson was dropped on his head, while Red landed on top of him with a yelp. Brock landed gently on his feet beside them and he gave a heartfelt mental _THANK YOU_ to the psychic pokemon.

 _ **Please. I would have done this for free.**_

Another second later, and a very confused gaggle of Jackson's entourage appeared as well, deposited roughly just a yard or so away.

 _ **... I do still expect those pokepuffs though.**_

 _Done._

"Get off me!" Jackson yelled, shoving Red aside.

"Gladly! Jeeze, Mr. Fluffy. Did you have to do that?" Red complained. There was a pause. "Haha, very funny. What do you mean you call 'dibs'? I was going to just sweep them all with Char. Huh? Alright, alright! Jeeze."

Jackson watched his opponent argue with himself with a raised eyebrow that clearly questioned his mental stability. "What on earth are you doing?"

"What? I was talking to Mr. Fluffy. He talks in my head," Red explained as if that cleared up everything.

"I... see."

"Well, I was only going to use one pokemon, but Mr. Fluffy is insisting he takes part after Char roasts your Dragonite. You don't mind using your Dragonite first, do you? I'm using a Charizard. No type advantage or disadvantage there."

Jackson sniffed. "If you really want me to use my strongest pokemon first, sure. It just means it'll be over all that much quicker."

"Oh good, that'll really help me out," Red replied with a grateful smile. "In return, I promise not to hurt your pokemon too badly."

His opponent gasped in offense, but Red had already turned to the Gym Leader that was unofficially their referee. "Hey, Brock, you think your pokemon can handle fire watch? Char's gonna be ticked when I tell him what this guy said."

"They might. Think you can try and get him to tone it down?"

"Eh, maybe? He's up against a Dragonite, though, so they'll probably be in the air mostly. That should help. Anyway, let's get this started. Mr. Fluffy, you coming or what?"

Immediately the pokeball in Brock's hands disappeared and reappeared in front of Red's face for him to grab and replace on his belt. While Red took his place on the north side of the rocky field, Brock took the time to summon the Geodude, Golem and two Onix he had with him.

"Char and Dragonite first, right?" Red shouted, just to be sure.

Jackson rolled his eyes as his entourage finally recovered enough from their displacement to begin chattering excitedly about the match. "You're stalling. Dragonite, go!" he called out in a bored tone as he tossed his pokemon onto the field.

The legendary dragon pokemon hit the ground with an impressive thump. It's green eyes narrowed as it took in its surroundings before letting out a challenging roar that shook their surroundings, sending a flock of Pidgey into flight from the trees below their ledge.

Red let out a low whistle of appreciation. "Wow, he is a beauty. Make sure you use him against Lance, I'm sure he'd appreciate it."

"Still stalling?" Jackson taunted.

Red shrugged. "Maybe a little bit. I don't get to battle seriously very often, I'm trying to enjoy it while I can. Okay, Char, let's set the record straight. Go, Charizard!"

In a flash of red light, a large orange reptile appeared on the field. Instantly the temperature of the surrounding area began to climb as tendrils of blue fire curled from the tip of its tail. It blinked lazily up at the bright sunlight before turning to face its trainer with a questioning chirp.

"Haha, yeah, I know. Not our usual arena, huh, buddy? But this guy claims he's defeated us before, can you believe that?"

A low snarl ripped through the air, as Charizard whirled to hiss angrily at the Dragonite and trainer before them. Red seemed completely at ease with the quickly rising temperatures, but Brock found himself having to ditch his shirt. He also made a subtle order to his pokemon to increase the radius of cleared undergrowth by another three feet.

The air boiled around him as Char stretched himself up to his full height, spreading his wings as he belched blue fire into the air as his bellow of challenge caused everyone to cover their ears. Brock cursed under his breath as the undergrowth that hadn't been cleared yet burst into flames, but one of his Onix was quick to smother it.

Jackson stared in stunned disbelief as his Dragonite took a nervous step back from the blistering heat and vicious glare being directed his way. "Wha-"

"Hey, Jackson!" Red called out. "I don't think I ever properly introduced myself. I think there's a rule out there somewhere that says I have to before we get started. They made a whole lot of rules for me, actually, and I'm still trying to remember them all." He scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

"The name's Red, Pokemon Champion. This here is Char, my Charizard," the teen introduced, gesturing to both of them. "We both take offense to your claim of having defeated us, but that's okay. We can clear it up right now. First move goes to you."

Jackson paled at the dawning realization that he may have made a grave tactical error. He swallowed thickly as he hastily reconsidered all his previous strategies. Pokemon Champion? That child? Impossible. He was lying, he _had_ to be.

Lying or not, the Charizard was formidable opponent. Still, it was a flying type, and Dragonite had a trick up its sleeve for just such an occasion.

"Dragonite, Thunder!"

Red nodded approvingly as the dragon type took off, but otherwise made no move to command his Charizard as black clouds rolled across the sky. The sudden blast of wind combined with the heat radiating off of Char, and Brock grimaced in annoyance as three more fires broke out around his perimeter. Golem and the Onix moved quickly to contain them.

Char watched the sky with a certain detached impatience as Dragonite took position directly above him. Electricity flashed ominously in the dark clouds for a moment before the dragon seized control of the currents and hurled them down at his opponent. A deafening crack of thunder pierced the air as the lightning fell down upon the fire lizard only to crash into the wall of heat surrounding the target and flow harmlessly into the ground around it.

Char huffed in irritation, but was otherwise uninjured.

"Char, Point Blank Fire Blast," Red ordered.

Like a rocket, the fire lizard took off and Jackson barely had time to issue a command before it had closed the distance. "Dragonite, Spark!"

Lightning arced across the dragon's scales just as Char crashed into it. The Charizard flinched, but otherwise refused to slow down as he grabbed his opponent and opened his mouth wide to spew searing blue fire at impossibly close range.

Even from the ground Brock could feel the massive wave of heat and his winced in sympathy of that poor pokemon. Everyone squinted against the harsh light of the bright flames; and when the glow faded, Jackson let out a stuttering gasp of fear as his Dragonite began to fall from the sky.

"Dragonite, return!" Jackson called out hastily, once it became apparent the dragon wasn't going to recover on its own.

"Is he okay?" Red called out in concern, his Charizard landing beside him.

Jackson glanced down at the pokeball in his hand and nodded shakily. "Yeah. I think he's mostly unconscious."

"Oh, good. I've got some Burn Heal if you need it," Red answered. The teen withdrew his pokemon and reached for the third pokeball on his belt. "Ready for round 2?"

Jackson stared at him like he'd grown another head.

"Right?" Red asked, gesturing to the pokeball in his hand. "'Cause this is a three round fight and that-"

"I forfeit," Jackson interrupted without hesitation.

The teen sputtered in protest. "What? C'mon! Mr. Fluffy called dibs and everything. Not even just little match?"

"Red," Brock called out admonishingly as he approached. "You really did a number on his Dragonite, he probably doesn't want the rest of his pokemon to end up in a similar condition. Besides, I probably shouldn't leave my gym for very long or some idiot will challenge the Pokemon Champion for a badge he already has and lose to a Magikarp."

"That happened _one_ time!" Red replied, rolling his eyes. "I see your point though. Okay, Mr. Fluffy, take us to the Pokecenter, please?"

"... how do you lose to a _Magikarp_?" Jackson muttered as a purple glow surrounded them.

"It was _Red's_ Magikarp," Brock deadpanned, as if that explained everything.

And Jackson supposed it probably did.

* * *

The three of them were in the Pokecenter waiting room. Nurse Joy had said Dragonite's injuries weren't too bad, but it was customary to keep pokemon overnight that had fought against Red.

She'd said all of that while glaring at the teen with the blood chilling aura that had sent the mighty Pokemon Champion scurrying for cover behind their resident Gym Leader. Apparently Red was well known here.

"Boy, this takes me back," Red spoke as he sank down into the seat beside him. "Seems like just yesterday I was here waiting for Char to recover from fighting Brock. I was an idiot kid back then who thought it'd be a good idea to pit my little Charmander against his Onix."

"You're still an idiot kid, Red," Brock interrupted from across the room. "You came back a month later with a Charmeleon instead."

"Hey, I won didn't I?"

"Yeah. Like an idiot." Brock paused before adding. "Did you beat Misty with Char too?"

Red laughed, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Uhm. Maybe? Yes?"

The gym leader face palmed with a groan. "I can't tell if you're a moron or a genius. Both. Probably both."

"Anyway, as I was trying to say, Jackson, here." The teen reached over and placed a business card on the table in front of the other trainer.

"What's this?" Jackson asked, eying it warily.

"That's my number," Red replied happily. "Er, the one I wrote on the back, I mean, not the one on the front. That goes to the black hole of a receptionist named Sally up at the Indigo Plateau that I never hear from. The one on the back goes straight to me."

"You do realize that you actually need to go back to the plateau to get your messages from her, right?" Brock pointed out.

"What... Really? Why does no one ever tell me these things?" Red folded his arms and sat back to frown at the opposite wall in consternation.

Jackson eyed the card in his hand with uncertainty before turning to Red. "As... enlightening as this conversation is," he spoke, "why are you giving this to me?"

The teen blinked at him before giving a start. "Oh, right! Sorry, I got distracted. That's so you can call me for a rematch!"

When Jackson didn't reply and merely stared at him in incredulity, Red reached a hand up to scratch the back of his head sheepishly. "Or maybe a training session? You were talking earlier about how we were friends and trained together and stuff, so I thought why not make it so you're not lying anymore when you say those things? Well, most of them anyway. You can't say you've beaten Char anymore," he explained with a shrug.

Jackson's expression morphed into surprise before softening into thoughtfulness. "I'll... keep that in mind. Thank you."

"No problem!" Red answered cheerfully. He was about to say more when a phone chime interrupted. Frowning, the teen fished his cell out of a pocket and looked at the text he'd just recieved. A moment later his eyes widened in horror. "Oh, crud! That was _today_?!"

He was up out of his seat and heading toward the door in less than a second. "I'm dead, I'm so, _so_ dead! Gotta go, guys! Later! Mom's gonna _kill_ me!"

The Gym Leader and Trainer watched in bemusement as the PokeCenter doors closed softly behind the panicking teen.


	3. Chapter 3

**Betas:** To Mockingbird, GwendolynStacy, Igornerd, Monster Cat Music Girl, Duesal Bladesinger, Serrith

 **Chapter 3:**

Lance peered carefully through the binoculars, his Dragonite keeping careful watch beside him. He had pretty much gathered all the proof necessary, this was one of the splinter Team Rocket groups setting up base on one of the Seafoam Isles. Now he just needed to call in backup so they could root them out.

Locals on the other isles had already reported pokemon mysteriously vanishing without a trace, and even a few reported Team Rocket sightings as well. The fact that their base was on _this_ particular island was especially disturbing. It lay over a major fault line of the area and Team Rocket most definitely planned to use it to their advantage. Even a minor change in the area's tectonic activity could spell disaster for the coastal cities to the North or Cinnabar islands to the West.

They needed to crush this new base before it could get started.

He pulled out his phone and dialed in a number, his mind already spinning plans and selecting the most promising by the time the person on the other end answered.

"Uh, hello?" Red answered uncertainly.

"Hey, Kid," Lance greeted shortly, but didn't pause before going on. "Listen, I've just verified some intel from one of my agents and have located another fringe Rocket hideout. They've just begun to dig themselves into the Seafoam Islands and I'm going to need your help to flush them out before they get too entrenched. How soon can you get here?"

"Oh," the voice replied in surprise. "Uh... haha, so, funny story."

Lance narrowed his eyes even though he knew the speaker couldn't see him and Red went on.

"I'm... uhm... not able to come... at the moment. I don't suppose we could try a different time? Like in a week or so?"

There was a heavy silence that fell between them as Lance tried and failed to think up a reason for Red to be unable to help him stomp out an evil organisation trying to conquer the world and own all of its pokemon.

"You... What could you possibly have going on that's more important than stopping Team Rocket?!"

"Er... well, I kinda sorta maybe forgot I had Sunday dinner with Mom and I might... just a little, kinda... maybe..."

"Kid, spit it out already!"

"I'm grounded! She grounded me. I'm not allowed to leave the house for another week."

Lance stared dully off into space for a moment while his mind attempted to process that statement. "... Please tell me you're joking."

"I wish."

"... How can she ground you, you have a _Mewtwo._ "

There was a derisive snort. "Not as helpful as you'd think when _he takes her side_. If I even step foot outside I get teleported back into my room. Mr. Fluffy makes it _worse_ not better!"

Lance carefully did _not_ huff in exasperation as he brought his free hand up to rub circles into his temple against the headache he could feel coming on. "This is an evil corporation bent on enslaving all pokemon. Surely you could talk to her about—."

"You've clearly never had a conversation with my mother," the teen deadpanned. "The last time this happened, she didn't even let me take on any challengers for championship. She single-handedly brought the Indigo Plateau to a stand still. And that was only for _three days._ Believe me. Talking has been _tried_."

The dragon trainer took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. "Okay, different idea. _I_ could try talking to her about letting you out. Possibly on probation with me. Maybe if I make it sound like it could be part of your punishment..."

He could not believe he was even having this conversation. Still, Lance always had always considered himself resourceful.

The snort of amusement from the other line interrupted his musings. "Sure, Lance. You're welcome to try."

And that was how Lance found himself seated beside Red's mother as she and Mewtwo debated the finer details of _Del Amor Prohibido_ about six hours later.

 _ **No. You see, Maria must travel with Julio's circus in order to make it to Tulancingo to make it in time to stop her twin sister Elaina from faking her death and stealing her inheritance. If she turned down Enrique's offer, she'd have to sneak aboard the pirate Jose's ship instead. But that wouldn't make sense since the pirates are heading East, in the opposite direction. The circus is the only route that makes sense.**_

 _"_ Oh but, Mr. Fluffy, you're forgetting the episode last season with the weird vehicle that landed out in the desert. That's probably Maria's long lost son from the future, Miguel, come to help her stop Elaina. I bet he shows up to take her to Tulancingo."

 _ **... I will allow that that does seem somewhat more likely. Perhaps.**_

A chime echoed from another room making Red's mom look away from the television. "Oh, Mr. Fluffy, would you be a dear and get those orange cranberry muffins out of the oven?"

 _ **Of course, Madam. You wouldn't want to miss the big reveal.**_

Lance was beginning to rethink his life choices as he watched an all powerful god-being that had once attempted to take over the world with an army of clones teleport an apron and oven mitts onto himself so he could catch the hot tray of baked goods floating itself out of the kitchen. A set of small plates and tiny forks also followed, arranging themselves onto the coffee table. Tiny orange and red-speckled muffins were just teleporting themselves onto said plates when the door burst open.

Red dragged himself inside, pausing only long enough to removed his muddy shoes (he'd learned long ago to never track dirt onto his mother's floors) before trudging the last few steps to the couch and collapsing onto it with a weary groan.

Or at least, he tried to. A purple aura surrounded him before he made contact with the white floral patterned cushions and tossed him out of the room onto the tile floor of the kitchen. "Ow. Mr Fluffy, what was that for?" he whined.

 _ **You will not sully Madam's furniture with your filth and sweat. Then you would have to clean it again, for the third time, and we'd be stuck here for another day!**_

The teen let out a frustrated huff. "Fine! Whatever!" He made himself comfy on the floor before holding up a hand and ticking off tasks on his fingers. "Okay, so I cleaned the gutters, mowed the lawn, weeded the garden, repotted the petunias, fixed the leak in the roof, repaired and repainted the fence, replaced the broken hinge on the gate, washed the car, decluttered the garage, organized the shed and scrubbed down all the garden gnomes. That's _everything_ on your list. Can I please, please, _please_ be ungrounded early?"

Soulful blue eyes turned on the matriarch of the house and she regarded her son with a stern expression. After a moment, she sighed reluctantly and nodded. "Alright. That was the deal."

"Yes!" Red cheered, jumping to his feet, exhaustion apparently forgotten. "Thanks, Mom!" He rushed over to give his mother a quick peck on the cheek. "I promise I won't forget next Sunday, alright?"

"Be sure that you don't," she warned before softening her tone. "I finished your laundry this morning, and made you a couple dozen of those cookies you like for the trip. Do _not_ eat them all in one day. I know you, Buster! Now go upstairs and shower and change. Mr. Fluffy is right, you're filthy."

Red laughed sheepish, rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah, okay Mom. I'll do that. I'll just be a few minutes, Lance!" He spared the dragon trainer a quick glance before darting up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

"And don't forget to pack plenty of clean underwear!" The embarrassed groan echoing down the stairs was music to her ears.

A few minutes later there was the muffled sound of a shower turning on. Lance nearly choked on a bite of muffin as a gaze fiercer than any dragon he'd ever tried to tame shifted to him.

"Now. Mr. Lance. What, _exactly_ , do you need my son's help with?"

* * *

 **EXTRA: (Because people keep asking me why no one recognizes the Pokemon Champion)**

"I can _not_ believe I let you talk me into wearing that."

Lance paused in midstep, turning back to blink at Red in confusion. "What?"

Red sighed and gestured at the wall beside him. "During the PR photoshoot. For the league posters."

Lance retraced his steps to take in the image plastered from floor to ceiling. It was Red, standing with his arms folded, staring stoically off into the distance, though that was hard to see through the sunglasses on his face. A dark cape fluttered in the wind behind him, the inside a bright red that contrasted with the navy blue and orange lined outfit he wore under it. His hair was gelled back, and just... didn't look at all like his usual self.

"I see nothing wrong with it."

Red sent him a flat look. "Really. _This_ is why no one ever recognizes me!"

Lance shook his head. "No, that's the sunglasses. Those are entirely Agatha's idea. And the hair was all Lorelai."

Red growled in irritation. "At least I didn't let Bruno convince me to go shirtless."


End file.
